Page 17 of Knocked up By the Mountain Man

I’ve said those exact words to him once more and it was the best moment of my whole damn life.

His response is a deep, primal growl that vibrates against my skin. He shifts slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside me. The sensation is overwhelming, sending a shock wave of pleasure radiating through my entire body.

“Come for me, Clara,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice a low, seductive command. “I love feeling it.”

I can’t hold back any longer.

The world narrows down to the intense pleasure coursing through me, the feeling of him deep inside me, the sound of his voice, rough and urgent. With a cry, I tumble over the edge, the orgasm hitting me like a tsunami of crashing waves. Each wave of pleasure builds on the last, pulling me under. Deeper and deeper, until I’m lost in the overwhelming sensation. It’s as if I’m drowning in ecstasy, each wave dragging me further into a sea of bliss.

Beau doesn’t stop.

He keeps moving, his pace relentless, driving me higher and higher until I’m lost in a whirlwind of sensations.

“Fuck, Clara, you’re so tight,” he groans, his words sending a fresh wave of heat through me. “So wet and perfect.”

As the waves of pleasure ebb, I feel him stiffen, his breath catching in his throat.

“Oh fuck, Clara, I can’t…”

With a final, deep thrust, he groans my name, his release sending shivers through both of us, tightening my chest in a powerful vice like grip.

I wake with a start, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

The intensity of the dream still lingers, the phantom sensations of Beau’s touch and the rough bark of the oak tree vivid in my mind. I sit up, push the sweat dampened hair from my forehead, and look around my room, disoriented.

That isnothow I wanted to start my first full day back at Silver Ridge.

Not when I have so much to do, starting with finding suitable childcare for Thomas while I work.

Urgh, Ihaveto shake off that dream so I can focus on what’s important. I shouldn’t be dreaming of Beau like that, especially after how weird he was last night. All drunk and demanding to know about my husband. As if I’m going to tell that icy cold man anything about my life.

I get out of bed, trying to shake off the remnants of last night. After a quick shower, I get dressed and head downstairs, following the scent of fresh coffee. Wyatt’s house is quiet, the only sounds coming from the kitchen where I find him standing by the stove, flipping pancakes.Sucha different scene from the house we lived in as kids, where it was absolute chaos, all the time.

“Morning, Clara,” Wyatt greets me with a warm smile. “How’d you sleep?”

I force a smile in return. “Morning, Wyatt. I slept… alright.” I pour myself a cup of coffee, taking a moment to savor the rich aroma before taking a sip. “How was your date last night?”

Wyatt grins, his eyes lighting up. “It was great. We went to a new restaurant in town, The Harvest Moon.”

“Aw not Milly’s Diner?” I tease. “Isn’t that where you used to take all your dates?”

He rolls his eyes. “In high school, yeah, but this is different.”

“So, how was it?”

“The food was amazing, and she’s really nice. I actually like her a lot. We’re planning to see each other again this weekend.”

“That’s great, Wyatt. I’m glad it went well.” I settle into a chair at the kitchen table, cradling my mug in both hands. “It’s weird to see you so excited about someone though.”

Wyatt chuckles as he places a stack of pancakes on a plate. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve felt this way about someone. But enough about me, how are you holding up? Any plans for today?”

“Yeah, actually, I wanted to ask you about nurseries. Do you know any good ones around here? You know, just for while I work?”

Wyatt thinks for a moment, flipping the last pancake on the plate and turning off the stove. He brings the plate over to the table and sits down across from me.

“Actually, there’s a new nursery that just opened up a few weeks ago. I’ve heard good things about it from a couple of people in town. Might be worth checking out.”

“Do you know who runs it?” I ask, hopeful.

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